


Her Gratitude

by Marrilyn



Series: Hers [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Banter, Bruises, F/F, Finger Sucking, Girls Kissing, Hand & Finger Kink, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, Pain, Rowena Gets A Hug, Rowena Needs A Hug, Rowena Whump, Smut, The hand parts are there because I have a hand fetish, Veiny Hands Are Sexy, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:31:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Rowena decides to reward reader for taking care of her.





	Her Gratitude

A groan signaled Rowena's awakening. You hurriedly set the mug of tea you'd prepared for her on the coffee table while she rose to sit up, clutching her stomach as if it were on fire. Sympathy flooded your heart, which soon turned to anger at the thought of what Crowley must have done to her to leave such damage. 

She'd done a horrible thing with Gavin, but in the end, it was her grandson's choice. Rowena only supported it. Crowley should have taken that into consideration before locking her up in his dungeon – _again_ – and mercilessly torturing her for almost twelve hours. 

Who knew how long it would have gone on for if you hadn't shown up? 

"Hey," you said softly, sitting down next to her and reaching for her hand. You wanted her to know that you were here for her, that you would never let any harm come her way. "Sleep well?" 

"I have," she replied, rubbing her tired eyes. 

You were happy to hear that. "Does it hurt again?" 

She nodded. You offered her another painkiller. She took the pill from your hand without uttering a word and downed it with water you'd left for her on the coffee table. 

You gave her hair a few strokes, smiling at her. _Good girl,_ you thought. Considering how proud she usually was, you were glad she allowed you to care for her without making much of a fuss. She hadn't refused your help or tried to play tough like she usually did. She let you be there and ease her pain as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Which, for anyone else, it would be. The joy you felt at her finally letting you in when she was at her weakest couldn't be put in words. You liked helping her. She'd always been there for you when you needed her. She might not have said much, but her actions spoke louder than words. 

It was time you returned the favor. 

"I ordered you some food," you told her, prompting her to look at you. Even with the dark purple bruises and gauze-covered cuts, she looked as gorgeous as ever. She was still the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. No injuries or lack of glamorous makeup could change that. "Wasn't sure what you'd want, so I ordered different kinds. My fake credit card's exhausted." You laughed. "I also made you tea. It's nowhere near as good as yours, but I'm hoping it's drinkable." 

"You didn't have to do that," Rowena said. Even after a year of being in a relationship with you, she still couldn't get used to the kindness you kept showing her over and over again. Wicked witches like her didn't deserve kindness – or so she thought. You'd never regretted giving her a chance all those years ago. As it turned out, she wasn't quite as wicked as she presented herself as. If only people would allow her to show it to them like she'd shown it to you, maybe they wouldn't keep pushing her around and using her. They would see that she was a person with feelings, too. Just like them. Just like you. 

"It wasn't a problem." 

She took a sip of her tea. You watched her in silence, mentally preparing for chastising. Your terrified look turned into that of confusion when she smiled. "Not bad." 

"Really?" you asked. 

"I've tried worse," she teased. 

You smiled. "Well, I'm happy to know it's not terrible." 

She reached for your hand to hold it again, smile widening. "It's great, darling. Thank you." 

Your fingers started playing with hers. God, how small her hands were. It was adorable. And those nails, dark crimson, a perfect contrast to her pale skin. There was something about that fire red polish on her nails – both fingernails _and_ toenails – that made her all the more delectable. 

You brought her hand to your lips, laying a kiss to her fingers. It took a lot of self-control not to take them into your mouth. It wouldn't be appropriate to initiate anything of the sort at a time like this. She was vulnerable. Doing that would be taking advantage, and that wasn't you. You would never put her in an uncomfortable position. 

"Hungry?" 

"Starving," Rowena said. 

You cleaned up the coffee table before setting all the food you'd gotten on it. Rowena stared back and forth between the plates you'd set before her and you, a look of confusion spreading across her face. When you said you'd ordered different kinds, she didn't know that included half the menu. There was a little bit of everything on there, from salads and vegetables to different kinds of meats – chicken, beef, and pork. Of course, you'd made sure to order caviar as well, the most expensive kind they had. All the best for your girl. 

"Are we expecting guests?" Rowena asked as you put down the last plate. 

You plopped back down on the couch. "Nope," you said, popping the p. "It's all yours." 

She looked from the food to herself. "Darling, I _am_ hungry, but _that_ is a tad much." 

Her chuckle prompted yours to surface. "You don't have to eat it all at once. We can save for later." 

"Oh, we definitely will." She gazed up at you. "Eat with me?" 

"It's for you," you said, shaking your head. You were starving, but there was no way in hell you would take her food. You'd ordered all that specifically for her. She was the one who was hurt. She needed to eat to regain her strength. You could manage with leftovers in the fridge. 

Rowena chuckled again, and it was the most adorable thing in the world. For such an intimidating little lady, she could be incredibly cute. "Y/N, there's enough food to feed a small army. Join me. I insist." 

Sighing, you nodded. Who were you to say no to expensive food? You let her take what she wanted first before looking over the massive amount of food that was left. You decided on a simple salad. As hungry as you were, you couldn't get yourself to eat too much. You never had trouble eating, but taking care of Rowena and knowing that, despite doing your best, she was still in pain wasn't doing your appetite any favors. The only thing that stirred in your stomach was concern – concern for her, for her wellbeing. You would eat once you were sure she was better. You would rest once you were sure she wasn't hurting. You would sleep once you were sure she wasn't afraid to face her dreams alone.

Until then you would survive on bare minimum.

People who say hope is a bitch have obviously never dealt with concern.

"Where's the wine?" Rowena asked after finishing her meal.

You swallowed the last piece of your salad before replying. "You can't have alcohol with pills."

She pouted like a child. You stood corrected – that chuckle wasn't the most adorable thing in the world. It was this little pout! "You're no fun."

You shrugged. "Sorry, sweetheart."

Rowena took a sip of water. She didn't miss a chance to scowl at you, making it clear that she wasn't happy with this turn of events. If only there was something you could do to make this easy for her. If only there was a spell to make all her wounds disappear. As wicked as she may have been at times, she didn't deserve this. No one deserved to be tortured to this extent – by their own child, no less.

"How are you feeling?" you asked her after cleaning up the coffee table. You threw the dirty dishes in the sink, vowing to do them sometime later – whenever that may be. Knowing you, it would take a while. As attentive as you were with your girlfriend, you tended to be quite lazy when it came to chores. You stuffed the remaining food in the fridge. Good news was that you didn't have to order anymore food for at least two days. Not many people could say they had expensive leftovers.

"Good," Rowena said, voice a gentle purr. "Better."

"Does anything hurt?"

"Not as much as it used to."

You smiled contently, putting a hand to her cheek. "I wish I could do something more to help you."

"You've done enough," she said, clasping her hand over yours. Her fingers drew circles over your skin, long, red nails gently scraping against it.

"Is there anything else you need?" you asked in an attempt to distract yourself from the growing heat between your legs. Now was not the time for petty desires. Shivers spread through your body, starting from your hand, where the pads of her fingers lightly tapped your skin.

"I'd like a kiss," Rowena said without a moment of thought.

She didn't wait for a response before pressing her lips to yours. You found yourself under her spell in an instant, all worries forgotten, all thoughts of pain and torment and everything bad fading with each little move she made. For a moment she wasn't wounded and you weren't her caretaker. You were just two women in love, caught in a moment of intimacy. Your veins burned red hot, blood turning to fire, heart speeding up as if it were nearing explosion. It always amazed you how much control she had over you with simple kisses. All it took was one touch of her lips and you were all hers, your body a puppet led by her invisible strings.

You didn't care about her morning breath or the traces of blood on her chin. You didn't care that her clothes were dirty. You didn't care that little particles of dust and dirt from the unkempt dungeon still clung to her skin. She was as beautiful to you as ever. Your body reacted to her the way it always did, with desire and craving only she could satisfy. Crowley could take her strength, but he could never take her passion.

Throwing her arms around your neck, she deepened the kiss. She shifted closer to you, clinging to you as if her life depended on it. A moan escaped you as her nails dug into your skin, pressing hard enough to leave marks. You melted into her touch, relinquishing all your remaining control, letting her play this game any way she wanted.

You were usually the one that played it rough, but you welcomed a shift in roles. It couldn't hurt to try something different. You leaned backwards, back pressed against the armrest. The couch was small, but there was enough room for you to lie back comfortably. Rowena followed your movements, lips parting from yours as she mounted you. Placing your hands to her sides, you helped her up, mindful of her state. You didn't know what kind of injuries her clothing hid, so you made sure your touch was tender. The last thing you wanted was to hurt her.

A pained moan escaping her lips prompted you to release her. "Don't stop," she said, diving for another kiss. 

"I hurt you," you whispered, pain tugging at your heart. How could he do that to her? Her own son! How could he wound her so much that the gentlest of touches hurt her? It wasn't right. She didn't deserve this. No matter what she had done, she didn't deserve to be hurt like this. 

"It was nothing," she assured you. It wasn't in her nature to admit to weakness. She'd been hurt enough times to learn to be tough and never show emotions, never feel in front of others. You were different. You loved her. You protected her. You cared for her in ways no one ever had and expected nothing in return. Whereas others have used helping her to gain favors, you asked for nothing in return. The only thing you wanted was for her to be okay. Sometimes that entailed missing out on sleep and eating leftovers for days, but it was worth it. You could be fixed with a few hours of sleep and a breakfast. She, on the other hand, would have to live with the pain for weeks. 

Brushing her lips against yours, she laid a kiss to your cheek, gently tracing down your jaw all the way to your neck. Her mouth was hot against your skin, rivaling the ever-rising heat between your legs, as if fire fought fire in a never ending battle of passion. Little cracks and splits in her lips scratched your skin. There was something deep in the touch of wounded flesh against your own, an intimate sign of trust. 

Being trusted by Rowena MacLeod was a privilege. It took months to earn it and you swore to do everything in your power to keep it. 

Her fingers slithered over your hips. They curled around the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up. 

"Rowena…" you whispered, uncertainty clear in your tone. 

"Should I stop?" she asked. 

The sane part of you screamed yes. The horny one, the one burning with desire and passion and craving for her, all of her, screamed an even louder no. It would be a lie if you said you didn't want her. But what you wanted and what was right were two different things. As much as you wished to have her right here and now, taking advantage of someone who'd been tortured for the entire night and was still in pain was something you would never do. If this was going to happen, you needed to be sure she wanted it as much as you did. 

"You don't _have to_ do this." 

You remembered the Loughlins. Remembered how she said she'd offered herself to them in exchange for a refuge. Remembered her tears and sobs as she told you that story. Remembered holding her and promising she would never have to do that again. You could never be that heartless as to throw her out like trash and treat her as if she was nothing. She was a person; she mattered and deserved respect. 

You took care of her because it was the right thing to do. Because you loved her and cherished her and hated seeing her in pain. Because she deserved some kindness in her life. Because she was Rowena, one of the most powerful witches alive and the love of your life. And even if she wasn't, even if she was some stranger on the street, you would have still offered her support, and wouldn't have asked for anything – especially anything of the sort – in return. You loved her for _her._ She didn't have to earn your kindness – she'd had it from the start. 

"I _want_ to," she purred. She looked you in the eyes, understanding spilling across her face as she took in the fear on yours. She knew what you were thinking of. For a moment a tear glistened in her eye. She blinked it away, taking a breath to compose herself. "I want this," she said again, emphasizing every word. "I want to take care of you like you took care of me." 

You nodded. "Okay." 

Rowena smiled, giving you a kiss. You tried to help her take your shirt off, but a shake of her head and a light swat of her palm against your hand told you she's got it covered. Your shirt was off in an instant, followed by your bra. Palming your breasts, Rowena lowered herself to lay kisses further down your body, sliding from your collar bone, between your breasts, and down to your stomach. 

She fiddled with the zipper before finally unzipping your jeans. You wiggled out of them, kicking them aside to join the rest of your clothes on the floor. Peering up at you, Rowena curled her lips into a wry smile, the naughty glint in her eyes promising heaven. Thin fingers played with the hem of your panties, lips teasingly brushing against your skin. 

"You're so mean," you told her, letting out a moan as she suckled on a spot just below your stomach. 

"Am I ever not?" 

With a final kiss to your abdomen, she slid your panties off and spread your legs to settle between them. You shifted to get more comfortable. Lying against the armrest was far from a suitable position, but you could manage. A little bit of back pain was worth the pleasure your girl would give you. 

"Good god, you're already wet," Rowena commented with a soft laugh, a hint of pride in her tone. 

"It's all your fault," you said with mock hurt. 

"Guilty as charged, dear." The words rolled off her tongue with a seductive purr. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your pussy. The touch of her lips sent you into a frenzy. You twitched, clenching your legs around her, which in turn prompted her to let out a pained gasp. Sensing your apology, she said: "Don't even think about it." 

You didn't have time to come up with a witty retort as her lips captured your clit, her wet, hot tongue brushing against its tip. "God, Rowena," you moaned, throwing your head back as gasp after gasp tore from your mouth. 

"You like that?" she asked, smirking up at you. She knew you did, but she wanted to hear you say it. She wanted her hard work to be acknowledged. 

"What do you think?" you said, purposely avoiding saying what she wanted. If she could be mean, then so could you. Two could play this game. 

She tutted in disapproval, clicking her tongue before giving your clit another soft lick. She pressed her hand to your hip when you twitched, restricting your movements. Bringing her other hand to your pussy, she curled her finger against your clit, smirk growing wider at the gasps escaping your lips. 

"I'm sorry, dear. I couldn't quite hear you," she teased. 

"I love it!" you said, panting, clenching your legs tighter around her. 

"Tell me how much you love it." 

"I… god, what do you want me to say? I just do!" you exclaimed, breathing in and out unevenly in attempts to get your trembling body under control. This woman would be the death of you. "Want me to write an essay?" 

"Who's being mean now?" Rowena took your clit into her mouth, sucking hard. 

Your attempts to regain control proving futile, you gave in, surrendering to her mercy. "Still you." 

"Still me," she agreed. Her tongue slithered over your clit, teasing you, daring you to come undone.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of keeping it in, a loud moan tore from your throat as the heat that had been bubbling up turned to lava, burning to be released.

"That's it, darling. Let it out." 

You were a vocal lover, even more so than her, and she loved every bit of it. Nothing could bring her more pleasure than making you scream. She loved having that amount of control over you, loved to push your buttons and have you depend on her mercy. 

"You're killing me." 

"I'm a wicked witch, dear," Rowena said smugly. "What did you expect?" 

"Pure evil…" you breathed, words lost to you as her tongue circled your clit. 

Her mouth gave one last suckle and you screamed, all your walls down, the last bit of control you had dissipating like powder scattered away by wind. Your back arched, eyes closing, muscles clenching as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Your nails dug into the back of the couch, shouts and curses of Rowena's name spilling from your lips. You were glad your apartment had been magically sound-proofed; you could be as loud as you wanted without complaints from neighbors.

Rowena hungrily lapped up the slick spilling from you, sucking up all the juices you'd given her.  

"Yes, sweetheart," you whispered, heat beginning to subside. "That's a good girl."  

You were panting for a few more moments, then, as your breathing returned to normal, you let your hand fall limp on your chest. One of your legs slipped from the couch, the bottom of your bare foot slapping against the floor.  

Taking a long moment to relax, you straightened into a sitting position. Rowena pressed her cheek to your shoulder, resting against you. You linked your elbows together, twining fingers with hers.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly.  

"I'm a bit sore, but other than that I'm fine," she replied.  

You kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her hair. "You were wonderful."  

"I know," she said smugly, letting out a chuckle. 

Smiling, you cast a short look at her. Dishelmed hair, ruined makeup, dirty, blood-coated clothes… It was times like this that reminded you that she was still human deep inside. Underneath the pride and class and magic there was a person. A person who could hurt and feel, who loved and needed love just like everyone else. 

"Wanna take a bath?" you asked, playing with her fingers. 

"Thought you'd never ask." 

Taking her by the arm, you led her to the bathroom. You helped her out of her clothes, tossing the ruined garments in a pile in the corner. Doubting Rowena would want to wear them again, you made a mental note to throw them out later. You swallowed a gasp at the sight of bruises covering her abdomen and chest, instead focusing on filling the tub. 

Crowley would pay for this. You weren't going to let him get away with causing her so much pain. Those might have been just bruises; they might heal relatively quickly and leave no permanent marks on that flawless, creamy skin, but right now they were there. They were hurting her and making her weak. It wasn't right. 

Once the tub was full, you stepped inside, then took Rowena by both hands and led her to join you. The water was hot against your skin, soothing some of your worries. Slouching down, you positioned her to sit between your open legs. Her small frame fit perfectly, like a piece of puzzle falling into place. She was so _tiny._ The realization tugged at your heart, the urge to protect her growing.  

"May I?" you asked, patting her hair. 

Rowena nodded. You submerged her just enough to get all of her hair wet. Pouring shampoo into your palm, you gently massaged her scalp. She let out a content sigh, relaxing as you kneaded, the pads of your fingers tenderly pressing into her skin and working through red curls. 

When you were sure her hair was clean, you submerged her again, washing out the creamy suds. You put your arms around her, gingerly feeling her stomach, where large, deep purple bruises marred her skin. When no protest or pained gasps came, you tightened your grip, resting your chin on her shoulder, cheek pressed against hers. 

"Rowena, I…" you whispered after minutes of just sitting there, holding her in silence. _I love you. I hate seeing you in pain. I will protect you._  

"I know," she said, understanding the words left unsaid, voice soft and soothing. 

Palming her hand, you raised it up, bringing it to your lips. Turning it over, you pressed a kiss to its top. Her skin was soft and smooth beneath your mouth. Your tongue left hot, wet trails as it traced the prominent veins adorning her hand. You couldn't explain your fascination with them and Rowena never asked you to. She welcomed you worshipping every part of her. 

Tongue circling a particularly protruding vein just above her ring and middle finger, you captured it with your mouth and sucked, teeth lightly grazing the thin skin. You were content to see a red mark already forming; out of all the bruises, this one she would wear with pride. 

Trailing upwards, you took her middle and forefinger into your mouth, capturing them with your lips. Your other hand felt her thigh, fingers brushing against the scar underneath which laid the casket of resurrecting magic. Rowena's hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could palm her pussy. 

"No?" you asked, releasing her fingers. 

"No," she confirmed. 

You nodded. "Okay." You pressed your lips to her shoulder, tracing up to the side of her neck, just below her ear. You wanted to feel every part of her, wanted her to know that she was loved, that she was wanted and desired despite her temporary weakness. She may have been wounded, but she was still as delectable as ever. No bruises could ruin the perfection that was Rowena MacLeod. 

Laying a chaste kiss to her cheek, you put your arms around her, lowering your head back on her shoulder. You sat there for what seemed like hours, basking in the comfort of the other's body.

You left when water started turning cool, helping Rowena dry herself off and carefully wrapping her in the softest bathrobe you could find. You'd spent the afternoon in the living room, Rowena sitting on the kitchen table while you cleaned the blood and dirt off the floor and couch. Feeling responsible for the mess, Rowena offered to help, but you told her you could handle it. What she needed was rest, not labor you could finish on your own, with a bit of help from your magic, in less than an hour.

For the remaining few hours the two of you curled up on the couch. Rowena rested her head on your lap, your left hand playing with hers while your right one shifted through the channels in search of something good to watch. Afternoon television sucked, but you managed to find a trashy horror movie to pass the time.

When night came, you helped her into a silky black nightgown and, giving her another painkiller, tucked her into bed. Throwing on a clean pair of panties and an undershirt, you crawled under the covers next to her. She instantly nestled into your chest, reveling in the safety of your arms wrapped around her. Her breaths were slow, eyes half closed as she looked around the moonlit room, unwilling to utter a word to disturb the silence.

"You still think I'm a fool?" you asked, remembering her berating you in the halls of Hell for coming to her aid.

"Aye," she replied honestly.

"I'd do it again, you know?"

"I do," she confirmed. "That's why you're a fool."

Loving her was an incredibly hard task that came with no instructions, but still, you loved the challenge it presented. You wouldn't give it up for anything in the world. "Wouldn't you do the same for me?"

 _Please, say yes._ You knew she would, but a part of you still begged for her to voice it loud and clear. You knew how proud she could be, how cold and heartless she could present herself as, and you hoped with all your heart that she would be honest. You needed to hear her say it.

"You know I would," she said without a moment's hesitation.

Letting out a relieved sigh, you tightened your hold on her. A hiss prompted you to loosen up a bit, but as soon as you did, she snuggled closer, nuzzling your chest, a silent way of telling you that she was alright.

"I'm gonna keep you safe, no matter what," you told her. "He won't lay a hand on you again."

She pressed her lips to your chest, just above your breasts, as a sign of gratitude. "Fergus will get what's coming to him."

You didn't like the sound of that. Heart racing in panic as the implication of her words settled in, you said: "Don't even _think_ of going after him." It came off as more of a command than a statement. "I'm not letting you anywhere near him."

"Y/N, dear, I appreciate your concern, but I have to do this." Her tone was a mix of determination and desperation. Rowena was nothing if she wasn't vengeful. She needed to get back at him even more than you had – unlike you, he had caused her actual harm. She needed him to pay for every single injury he'd inflicted on her.

"Fine," you gave in, knowing protests would be futile. The more you opposed her, the harder she would argue. "But you're not doing it alone."

There was no way in hell you were letting her anywhere near Crowley without you by her side. It didn't matter that she was one of the most powerful witches alive. It didn't matter that your power paled in comparison to hers. It didn't matter that Crowley was the King of Hell and could end you with a literal snap of his fingers. He'd already hurt Rowena and you weren't going to let it happen again. If she wanted to face him, you would have her back.

She sighed. "If you insist."

Laying a kiss to her hair, you shifted to the side to get more comfortable. "I love you, Rowena."

"I know." _Me, too,_ the soft brush of her lips against your chest said.

It took a while for you to fall asleep. You waited until Rowena drifted off to dreamland, ready to lend a comforting hand in case nightmares haunted her dreams. When she appeared to be at peace, you allowed your eyes to close. You listened to her breathing, the soft inhales and exhales soothing your nerves. For as long as you were around, she would be safe. She would be cared for and loved, her every need tended to. Whatever she wanted, she would get.

 _I will always protect you,_ you said to yourself. _No matter what happens, I will always put you first._ With those thoughts echoing in your mind, you faded into darkness, drowning in dreams of a better, happier future. A future without Crowley, the Winchesters, and other threats. A future you promised to build for her, and had every intention of turning into reality.

**Author's Note:**

> Editors: [BewitchedSquirrel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BewitchedSquirrel/) and [OswinTheStrange](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OswinTheStrange/).


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